


whenever it's hard, you can get a hug from me

by 97babys (gyukooks)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, boys being soft :(, i love them they are my best best best boys, not entirely romantic tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29445735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyukooks/pseuds/97babys
Summary: these are all things, again, hansol chooses to keep to himself, unable to convey his thoughts in a way that doesn’t make him sound selfish, or ungrateful. because he isn’t, he’s grateful every single day for the life he’s able to lead, that, at the end of the day, he’s able to get love for doing what he loves, and that’s a concept that is incredibly rare. but, it doesn’t take any of the burdens off his chest, the burdens that are threatening to crush him, then swallow the ashes.
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Kim Mingyu
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	whenever it's hard, you can get a hug from me

**Author's Note:**

> my second upload of the day. I'M CRAZY! but this came to me after watching the carat day vlive and i love these boys so much, and i couldn't help but write them all soft and caring so <3 enjoy!!!! i certainly enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> title from hug <3

hansol stares blankly down at the empty sheet of notebook paper, surrounded hopelessly by scrunched up balls of discarded lyrics. it’s now three in the morning, hansol staying back in his studio after the award show they’ve just attended to start trying to scrape something together as inspiration for the next album. 

this is about 90% of the lyric writing process, he thinks, not actually writing lyrics, or even  _ thinking _ of them, but deciding where to start. he doesn’t know how jihoon does it, how he regularly produces masterpieces like some unhinged machine. he’s been trying to be more present in the album production, proudly participating in most of the songs that made it onto henggarae, to the praise of the members and the fans. but, now, all the elation that came off that project is gone, because, what’s the use if he can’t continue, if he can’t fucking  _ write anything down _ ? 

it makes him feel… inadequate. the feeling is always constant, being an idol, a strange limbo between actual musician and just a pretty face. sometimes, it’s dispiriting, to be introduced as the visual, the handsome one. it’s an issue he never brings up with any of the other members, because it’s not really a problem, is it? being  _ too _ handsome. but, he didn’t join seventeen to model, he’s here to rap, to do what he loves most, make and perform music. and somehow, he feels like he has to prove that not only to himself, but to everyone else, the industry, the underground rappers who look down on idol rappers like him. that he is, first and foremost, a musician, someone who loves music with everything in him and more. 

and in moments like this, where he can’t even bring himself to start to form a lyric, he wonders if they’re right. a tear manages to escape the well in his eyes, and drops down onto the paper. well, at least he’s got something on there, hansol thinks, miserably, wanting nothing more than to drag himself back to his parent’s home in hongdae and sleep for the rest of his life. 

it’s a thought he’s had far too many times since he’s become a trainee. wanting to abandon everything, shed off his persona as vernon and go back to being chwe hansol, anonymous, hidden from the world. sometimes, he forgets how young he is, how young he was when he was first put under the scrutiny of the public, the harsh critics of the rap community. it’s overwhelming, and all he wants is validation for the thing he puts the most effort into. yet, it’s clear to him now, effort doesn’t equal appreciation, as he sits around the shitty half-hearted lyrics his brain has unhelpfully spluttered out for the past three hours. 

these are all things, again, he chooses to keep to himself, unable to convey his thoughts in a way that doesn’t make him sound selfish, or ungrateful. because he isn’t, he’s grateful every single day for the life he’s able to lead, that, at the end of the day, he’s able to get love for doing what he loves, and that’s a concept that is incredibly rare. but, it doesn’t take any of the burdens off his chest, the burdens that are threatening to crush him, then swallow the ashes. 

besides, the rest of his members have their own concerns, their own worries and problems. hansol couldn’t possibly burden  _ them _ with his nonsense. despite what everyone thinks, hansol feels responsibility as the twelfth youngest to be a source of strength, of youthful joy for his hyungs. he’s established himself thus far as someone who doesn’t really need anyone else, stoic, calm, and unperturbed by most things. it’s easier this way, for the older hyungs. he feels satisfaction that they don’t feel the need to use whatever little energy they have in the first place fussing over him. they don’t question it when hansol doesn’t return to the dorm at three am, and hansol is perfectly fine with it.

but, as he watches the tear drop expand across the paper, streaking the blue lines ever so slightly, he starts to feel terribly, horrifically alone. like no one in this world understands him, understands what he needs and what he feels, and the feeling is so overpowering, that the single tear transforms into full blown sobs, as hansol clutches his legs to his chest, and cries out every aching emotion he’s felt in the past seven years. 

he doesn’t stop, lets himself stain the paper until it’s practically transparent with the entirety of his tear reserves. he cries for his teenage self, entering this company with uncertainty of his future, just overflowing with sprightly hopefulness, no doubts developed just yet. he cries for the boy who’d lost four of his members, who was beginning to lose the hope he’d so desperately clung onto, who was watching everything fall apart in front of him. he even cries for the boy who’d sold over a million albums this year, who’d wrote songs on top of songs, won awards on top of awards, because, with every accomplishment, came the lingering fear that, that moment was the peak, that everything would go down from there. everything was always uncertain, nothing is ever guaranteed, and it’s terrifying and overwhelming. hansol cries out that feeling, lets it wash over him in waves as he absorbs and reabsorbs it again. 

he’s crying so loudly, so uncontrollably, that he doesn’t register the door creak open, doesn’t see a familiar head of blue-green hair sticking out of the crack. “vernonie, are, what the hell?” mingyu’s voice carries into the studio loudly as he clumsily pads over to the desk, getting to his knees, spinning the chair so hansol is facing him. 

hansol doesn’t say anything, just lets out a loud sob. “okay, okay, um, can you look at me, love? can you follow me?” hansol looks up and meets mingyu’s kind, but severely concerned brown eyes. he nods, taking in a gasp, feeling his sobs recede ever so slightly. he watches mingyu take deep breaths, patting his hand against hansol’s arm rhythmically, allowing hansol to match his breaths in time with the taps. they sit like that for several minutes, breathing together, hansol’s sobs transforming into softer sniffs, eyes trained on mingyu’s face as he smiles gently up at him. 

“sorry, i’m sorry to, to bother you, hyung,” hansol sniffles, rubbing at his nose with his sleeve absentmindedly. mingyu shakes his head urgently, brushing his fingers through hansol’s hair affectionately. 

“you could never  _ bother _ me, hansol-ah. i only came down here because it was getting late, and cheol hyung told me you were probably still in the studio,” mingyu assures, softly. hansol shrugs, feigning nonchalance, despite mingyu’s words sitting in the deepest alcoves of his heart. 

he wonders, staring into mingyu’s eyes, how the older always  _ knows _ . how he has an instinct that tells him just exactly how to help the people he loves. the loneliness hansol had just been feeling has all but disappeared like it was never there. mingyu has barely done anything from an outside point of view, but hansol feels so loved, so taken care of, just by his presence. it’s remarkable, the light he shines on the rest of the world. hansol feels privileged to have kim mingyu in his life, by his side. the thought is enough to bring tears back into his eyes.

mingyu widens his eyes in alarm and swipes at the tears gently with his thumb, before going to cup hansol’s cheek. hansol leans into his hold, closing his eyes, relishing in the warmth, smiling. “do you want to tell me what happened? it’s okay if not, i just, i’ll be here for whatever you need me to be here for.” hansol pauses.

normally, perhaps if it were anyone else, he would shake his head and give some rendition of ‘i’m fine’, with a signature smile, never wanting to cause a problem, cause concerns and worries and whispers. but for some reason, as he opens his eyes and looks down at mingyu, who’s giving him a look that is so tender, so sincere, genuinely opening himself up to whatever hansol needs, he actually feels the desire to be honest, to share, to open himself up in return. he looks away, choosing to stare intensely at the monitor on the desk. 

“i couldn’t, i couldn’t  _ write _ anything. and it was bothering me so much, that i’ve allowed myself to be an artist that doesn’t even write every single thing he performs, and that, it makes me feel like i’m lacking. i’m trying  _ so _ hard, and if i’m unable to produce anything even after that, maybe i’m just mediocre, maybe i always will be,” he says, tapering his voice off into a whisper. 

he turns his head back to look at mingyu, who’s fallen silent. the older has the most devastated look on his face, and hansol notices  _ his _ eyes are beginning to fill with tears, as his lips part ever so slightly. he lets out a small noise, before abruptly getting off his knees to pull hansol into an demanding hug, arms almost too tight around hansol’s frame. 

“you are anything but mediocre, hansol-ah,” he whispers into hansol’s ear, and the words are so earnest that they give hansol goosebumps from head to toe. he pulls away after a few moments, still holding onto one of hansol’s arms.

“you  _ inspire _ me, seriously. your determination, your skills, everything. the way you’ve worked so hard to develop a name for yourself, ignored what other people have said about you, pushed to have a bigger presence in the album making. it’s inspiring, it is. you are, an, an  _ enigma _ ,” mingyu says, eyes shining. hansol can’t bring himself to absorb the words, the wholehearted compliments, that aren’t even compliments, something simply on a different level than that. so he shakes head insistently. 

“but i’m not, i’m not, because i haven’t ignored them. i’m sitting here, five hours after we’ve just won two fucking  _ awards _ , crying over them. i’m not who i want to be, i’m unexceptional, i’m-” his voice breaks, threatening another sob. mingyu lets out another small noise, his expression almost desperate. hansol is starting to feel embarrassed again, wants to close up the borders he’s hesitantly let down, call this whole  _ therapy session _ off and forget that he ever told anyone these insignificant, humiliating concerns.

“there’s nothing wrong with that, hansol. there’s nothing wrong with letting things get to you, you’re human, you have to. you can be grateful, and still accept that this life comes with difficulties, with obstacles, and you’re allowed to let them upset you. don’t feel  _ bad _ about that.” mingyu pauses, before letting out a deep sigh. “but, me, and everyone else in this world will tell you that you’re far, so far from mediocre. i wish, i wish you could see you how i see you. one night, or two, or even ten of not being able to write some lyrics doesn’t mean that you aren’t good enough.”

“and even then, don’t define yourself based on how i, how anyone else thinks of you. define it for yourself, define what it means to be an artist, a musician on your  _ own _ . i know, it’s a lot to ask in an industry that practically depends on public validation, and it’s easier said than done, but i mean it.” 

hansol doesn’t know how to respond, so he pulls mingyu into another hug, nearly knocking the other boy over, who just giggles in response. “i love you,” he says, and mingyu smiles against his neck. it’s something he doesn’t say nearly as often as he should, doesn’t say it with passion as much as he should. mingyu deserves to be told he’s loved every moment of every day, and hansol wants to contribute to that for the rest of his life.

they go back up to the dorms, mingyu insisting on staying in hansol’s room for the night. they’re curled around each other in bed, watching clips from their performance earlier on mingyu’s phone. hansol cheers teasingly when mingyu on the screen raises his eyebrows before his left and right chorus, making present mingyu curl in on himself, burying his head in hansol’s shoulder.

“you’re so cool, hyung,” hansol says, with a grin. “you inspire me too, so much. i’m so lucky to know you, i want you to know that.” mingyu says nothing, just smiles from ear to ear, and hansol desperately wants to make him do that all the time, because mingyu is gorgeous all the time, but one hundred times more so when he’s happy, when he’s smiling. mingyu plants a gentle kiss on the top of hansol’s head, ardent, devotion expressed in every aspect of his demeanor. loneliness becomes a forgotten feeling, affection spreading through every corner of hansol’s chest as he sinks into mingyu’s hold, content, and loved. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was honestly a lotttt more depressing (and cheesy.. wtf) than i intended but i am an angst lover to my bone, especially angst + hurt/comfort so.. i had to do it. disclaimer, i by no means want to analyze vernon, or any idol for that matter's mind. i built this plot from mostly my own thoughts, and things i've heard him + other idol rappers (mostly bts' rapline, if you were interested, they talk a lot abt this!!!) say about how they feel as idol rapper, and the strange place that puts them in, as musicians. in the words of megan thee stallion, i'm a rapper not no motherfucking model. 
> 
> but i wrote this because i feel that verngyu is probably top 3 most underrated seventeen friendships. i wanted to celebrate the dynamics of their relationship. the way they treat each other makes me so ;—; 
> 
> mingyu cares about vernon so much, i think he treats him the most like a little brother out of all three of the maknaes and it's just so cute. but VERNON omg he's always first in line to tease mingyu but it's so obviously fond, done out of pure affection, but then he's always AGAIN first to praise mingyu, tell him how cool he is. i said this came from today's carat day vlive, so more specifically the moment where mingyu said something grammatically incorrect in english, but instead of making fun of him, vernon complimented him on his confidence in a completely earnest way, and it was so cute. another moment i particularly love is in their reaction to one of their home run performances, i'll just give you [the link](https://youtu.be/ihqta1-9KME?t=79/). vernon was quiet for most of the video, but when it came to teasing mingyu about his part, he was the LOUDEST, but then he was right back praising him again. so cute so cute 
> 
> I JUST PUT A VERNGYU ESSAY IN MY ENDING NOTES! anyway. i hope you all are well, i shall leave you here!
> 
> [cc](curiouscat.me/97babys/) if you would like to chat more | [jun's new song silent boarding gate](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZwI0AvNbl8/) go stream go stream!!!!!


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